Chapter Twenty Eight
Tim Mangan leaned back in his seat as the plane took off. Everything he owned was in the cargo hold, in a big duffel bag, or his backpack under the seat. He was out of uniform, clad only in an old pair of jeans, and t-shirt. It was summer in New York, so his favored leather jacket was crammed in his duffel bag.
The plane’s take off didn’t unnerve him. After a three month stint in rehab when he was 14, followed by almost three years at Army and Navy Academy, a little flight didn’t unnerve him. The pretty girl in the next seat, who had smiled at him when she sat down, didn’t really unnerve him. He was plenty smooth with women; he had inherited a heavy dose of the charm possessed by both Dan Mangan and Daisy Duke, as well as their brunette good looks, and his mother’s big green eyes.
And Dan Mangan was what unnerved him. His father would be waiting to pick him up. While the brief visit over Christmas had gone surprisingly well, this was only the second time he had been home in three years. Three years since his father had packed him up and delivered him to rehab. Until Christmas, there hadn’t been any contact with him, only with Tim’s siblings and mother.
The look of surprise on Dan’s face when Tim had walked into the room with his cousins that night had quickly vanished, and Dan had been quick to pull his son into a tight hug.
The rest of the visit had been all right, or at least, civil. Tim had spent most of the time with his younger sister Dana, and brother Jesse, or with various cousins, mostly Aralyn and Tiffany. He had missed his quirky cousins, and Aralyn had had to beg him not to leave school and come home with the situation with Tony Roth blew up. Grandpa Matt had taken care of it, she assured him. And Grandpa Matt was nothing if not thorough.
Now the pair of girls were off on a road trip, and he was coming home to face his father, alone. For the first time in three years.
“You nervous?” the girl asked gently, her pale green eyes accented by smudges of a dark green eye shadow.
“Not about flying,” he replied grimly, then smoothed into a smile. “Just what’s waiting on the other end.”
“I know what you mean,” she confided. “I haven’t been home in two years—not since I got shipped off to school.”
One of Tim’s dark eyebrows went up. “No kidding?”
“No kidding.” She gave him a wry smile and he noted the healthy tan, sun kissed, light blonde hair and low cut pink tank top. Nice lips, he thought. Nice everything, it looks like. Not too much makeup, she goes au natural in that department.
“What’d a pretty little filly like you do to get shipped off?” he drawled, his dark eyes twinkling.
She burst into laughter. “That’s got to be the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard. Little filly?”
“Hey, it worked for my cousins,” he grinned.
“Yeah, if they’re from the backwoods of Georgia, maybe,” she laughed, holding out her hand. "Name’s Lyris.”
“That’s a pretty name,” he grinned, surprised by the firmness of her slender hand. “And it suits you. And actually, my cousins are from the backwoods of Georgia.”
She laughed again, and it was musical to Tim’s ears.
“You’re a slick one, aren’t you? No offense intended.” Her pale eyes twinkled. “Lyris is Greek, it means harp or lyre.”
“Definitely different. I’m Tim. And no offense taken.”
“Nice to meet you, Tim.” She gave him a smile that made his pulse quicken.
Her pale blonde hair skimmed her shoulders, highlighted by the sun. One side was tucked behind her ear and he noted the row of piercings, a couple of which were an angry red. Fresh piercings, he thought. Soft, manicured hands but the polish was black. Someone was rebelling, he thought. But she hadn’t taken it to the full stage of dying her hair, and wearing the heavy black eyeliner that made most girls look ghoulish.
“So what did you do to get sent off?” he asked casually.
“I was hanging out with a bad crowd,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “One of the girls got knocked up, and another arrested. Mom decided she wasn’t going to have me end up the same way, so off I went. My plane from San Luis Obispo, California, stopped here in Denver, and I had to change to continue on home to New York.”
“Where in New York?” he asked, intrigued.
“A tiny little hole called Croton-on-the-Hudson.”
Tim grinned. “I’m from White Plains.”
“Cool, we’re neighbors!” she smiled back. “So what are you doing out here?”
“I got shipped off to military school in Carlsbad, California.” he answered cheerfully.
The big, pale green eyes widened.
“So what did you do?”
The smile vanished from Tim’s face.
“You know what,” she said quickly, “you don’t have to tell me. I don’t mean to?”
“It’s ok,” he sighed. “It’s no big secret. Freshman year of high school I fell in with a bad crowd too. Started mouthing off to my dad, smoking pot, came home drunk, stayed out past curfew, started skipping school all the time. He’s a US Marshal and he busted us with some weed one day. Unfortunately it was the day the weed was laced with acid, which really screwed me up. I didn’t know it was laced until my cousins—also Marshals— wrestled me down. I was totally out of it. I wailed on my cousin Bo pretty good too, but I don’t remember any of it. When I got out of the hospital, Dad had had enough. He pulled some strings and had my ass tossed in rehab, then shipped off to military school.”
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, laying her hand over his.
“Well, it’s over now,” he forced a smile. “Besides, I deserved it, after some of the stuff I did and said. But I’m a good guy again. I just have to convince Dad of it.”
“You seem awfully nice to me,” she smiled.
Tim felt a thin layer of the hardness slip away from his heart. “Thanks.”
“So your dad’s a Fed?” she asked, intrigued. “What’s that like?”
“It seems like half my family is in some branch of the law,” he admitted. It took some time to explain his large family, and some of their eccentricities. She was a good audience, he thought, her eyes widening in the right places, and being intrigued with the antics of his mother in her younger days, and his father, a former gang member.
Before they knew it, the flight attendant was serving lunch, and she swapped him her fruit cup for his brownie, reminding him of his cousin Aralyn. Tim wasn’t big on sweets, but he noted how she picked out certain vegetables and seemed to really prefer the brownie to anything else.
She told him about her older sister, perfect in every way, now in law school, engaged to a perfect man.
“She sounds awfully boring to me,” he chuckled.
“In my family, boring is perfect,” she sighed. “Tattoos, piercings, black clothing—those aren’t acceptable, so of course, I have them just to piss off the ‘rents. I never wear them at school, just on the rare occasion I’m allowed to come home. I thought about going for a black wig, but that might push my dad over the limit.”
“I see the piercings,” he smiled, wondering what she meant by pushing her dad over the limit. “Unfortunately I’m the oldest, and I haven’t set a very good example for Jesse, my younger brother. Though I did get a tattoo.”
“If I can keep the tattoos hidden until August, I’ll be okay,” she admitted.
“Why August, and where are they that you think you can’t keep them hidden?” he asked, intrigued.
“I’ll be eighteen in August,” she answered. “My back, my neck and here.” She indicated the region over where her ovary would be. “Mother will have a fit if she sees them.”
“I can see the problem,” he said. “My cousin has a tattoo but her dad took her to a friend to get it.”
“The place I went to was spotless, and really nice, but Mom won’t want to hear it. She’ll just think I’m a failed experiment and that school didn’t work.”
Failed experiment. Tim remembered his father’s story, of how his Uncle Bill brought him to Sleepyside when he was in a gang, as an ‘experiment’. Dan had almost failed at it. It had been Trixie and Bobby Belden, Aralyn’s mother and uncle, who in the end helped Dan start to turn his life around. Becoming part of the Bob-Whites had set him firmly on a better an successful path.
Tim took her hand and squeezed it gently.
“You don’t seem like a failure to me,” he smiled, wishing they had more privacy so he could kiss her. While most of the passengers were engrossed in the movie, the ambiance was just wrong. Tim liked his ladies. He especially liked this one.
Tim was pretty sure he was reading her correctly; she was definitely flirting. He wondered if seeing him in uniform would turn her on. He was in plainclothes today, unfortunately he thought. But he usually didn’t up sitting next to hot girls on planes.
The captain’s voice came over the loudspeaker and announced their initial descent. Without thinking, Tim squeezed her hand.
“It’ll be okay,” she smiled at him but the wistful tone and suddenly sad eyes hit home. Pulling his bag out from under the seat, he scribbled his home phone number.
“I don’t have a cell phone yet, but this is the house phone,” he handed it to her. “And my email.”
“Thank you,” she smiled at him and in a pretty, swirly script, wrote her number for him. “I really want to keep in touch.”
“Most definitely. With my cousins out on the road and the rest of them somewhat strangers, I could really use a friend.”
“Me too,” she murmured.
The plane began its full descent and she timidly reached for his hand. Tim held it snugly, grateful they were in the back of the plane. They could be the last ones off the plane.
Tim was startled when they finally rose from their positions. She was nearly as tall as he was, easily five foot ten, he thought. Not quite as curvy as Aralyn, but definitely proportionate, with full hips, just how he liked them.
“Here we go,” she murmured, as they were the last two. Tim caught her by the arm and she turned to face him.
Quickly, too quickly, they both thought, he brushed his lips against hers.
“Please call me,” he said softly.
“I will,” she promised.
They walked together, hand in hand, until they reached the baggage claim. Since the terrorist attacks of 9/11, people couldn’t meet their loved ones at the gates anymore.
Tim helped her find her bag, and they walked outside together.
“Lyris!”
They turned and Tim saw a thin, tall woman with pale blonde hair that had been professionally styled and didn’t budge in the wind, walking towards them.
“Here goes,” she muttered. Impulsively she turned and hugged Tim. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Then she was gone, hauling her large suitcases behind her. Her mother was frowning, but the man with her glared at Tim as he took one of the suitcases. Then they were gone into the crowd.
Tim sighed and turned to look for his family, but saw none of them. Surely they hadn’t forgotten! A very familiar Dixie horn suddenly blared behind him. His jaw dropped a moment later as the bright orange, ’69 Dodge Charger approached, catching the attention of everyone. With its black 01 on the side and rebel flag on the top, Bo Duke’s car was unmistakable.
Tim shook his head, grinning. The General Lee pulled up along side him, and his dad pulled himself out of the passenger side, as his cousin Bo popped out of the driver’s side to sit on the door. The doors had been welded shut years before, like the NASCAR cars Bo had driven.
“Thought we’d pick you up in style!” Bo flashed his charming grin, not unlike Tim’s mother’s. Bo, Trixie, Aralyn and their twin sons were all blond, in contrast to the all dark haired Mangan clan: Bo’s cousin Daisy, Dan, and their three children.
Tim grinned at his cousin, then moved his green eyes towards his dark haired father, whom he resembled so much. Dan was smiling as he stepped forward and hugged his oldest child tightly. After a moment, he released him, and grabbed his bag to put in the trunk. Tim slid into the back seat through the window, grinning at the memories of doing so as a kid. Dan followed suit into the passenger side. Bo took the wheel.
“Welcome home, Timmy,” Bo turn and ruffled the young man’s hair. “Aralyn and Tiffany send their best.”
“I wish they hadn’t left so soon,” he murmured. Minutes later, they were on their way, heading towards White Plains.
Tim fell silent as Dan and Bo filled him in on the family happenings. Some of it he knew through his emails with his sister Dana, and brother Jesse. Aralyn and Tiffany kept him up to speed on their families. Tim’s other cousins were pretty much unknown. All were younger than him by a couple of years, except Rayma and Riley. He, Tiffany and Aralyn were the oldest, and had been as tight as the Three Musketeers when younger. Until I messed all that up, Tim thought. But at Christmas they had proved they didn’t begrudge him the past, welcoming him home with open arms and lots of warmth.
What Bo and Dan didn’t tell Tim about was the homecoming party. Tim had figured there’d be one within a few days, but as they pulled into their driveway, his heart sank at the sight of the cars. Everyone was here. So much for getting to used to being back, he thought. He forced a smile.
The pretty brick house with its sweeping porch and trim yard was full of cousins. Blondes, brunettes, and he even glimpsed the lone, small, red haired boy, a few older, red haired men, including his Great Uncle Bill. The walkway sandwiched between the small trim lawns had never looked so inviting.
Daisy Duke Mangan, his mother, was first to rush to him when he hopped out of the car. He swept her up and hugged her tightly as tears ran from her bright green eyes.
“My baby’s home,” she whispered, kissing both cheeks.
“Aw, Mom.” he was glad he didn’t blush easily. Daisy’s dark brown hair was up in a ponytail, and she looked as pretty as ever to him. Home was definitely where his mother was.
Then there was Jesse, his younger brother, who had always looked up to Tim. With Tim gone, he had tried valiantly to step into Tim’s shoes and watch out for Dana at school, trying to be the good big brother. Tim hugged him tightly. Bill Regan gave Tim a bear hug and ruffled his great-nephew's hair affectionately.
Dana wasn’t there, she had left for England already. The dark haired twins Rayma and Riley Belden hugged him, and then he was mobbed by three curly haired blonde boys. Tim quickly gave up trying to tell Leif and Logan Duke apart, but Matthew Belden was a bit easier to identify.
Jim Frayne was there as well, with his three kids, who barely remembered Tim. They hung back from the rowdier kids, but Sean Duke worked his way up to Tim, who gave him a big hug. Sean turned to his Frayne cousins and waved at them to come forward. Though the same age as Byron, they didn’t go to school together because of Sean’s autism, which forced Sean to attend a special school.
The hugs continued and then he was ushered inside, where there was a spread of food that made his stomach growl. The party went into the night, and by the time Tim crawled into his bed, exhausted, he wondered about Lyris, if her homecoming had been half as happy as his.
As his eyes closed, he smiled, thinking of her pretty pink lips and pale green eyes, and if he’d ever see her again. They had had such an instant, easy rapport…Tiffany would have said they were kindred spirits, he thought.
Meet the cast in full & see the family tree!
Author’s Notes
- A huge yee-haa to the fabulous and lovely Ronda, for editing this! The poor woman had to slog through my crazy tense changes, and resend it when I managed to delete it. Without her, Tim would be floating around in cyberspace, plotting revnge aginst me.!
- Tim was sent here, to the Army and Navy Academy.
- Word Count, 2,762
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